Spotlight: First Aid: Part 3 (Swindle)
2k5 - Sunday, March 03, 2013, 8:24 PM ------------------------------------- Ruined Estates A long time ago, the upper-class Cybertronians built their fancy homes on a gentle hill here, each trying to outdo the others in the size and elegance of their status symbols. These homes were thoroughly ransacked a long time ago, little left now but bare walls and scattered debris. Most of the high-society Cybertronians were easy prey for the Decepticons' attack; not knowing how to defend themselves few survived to fight back. All that's left to mark their existence are these houses, and despite the damage and neglect they are still beautiful, their graceful lines and sturdy architecture attesting to the artistic ability of that era, as well as the power of wealth. Contents: Swindle Obvious exits: Fly leads to Sky above Graveyard. East leads to Ruined Decepticon Outpost. West leads to Graveyard. First Aid sits quietly in one of the metal teepee-like structure. It has two benches and a bunch of junk laying on the floor. The Protectobot is using one hand to fiddle with circuitry in the wrist of his other arm. A blue minibot with big tires on his shoulders is sleeping on the other bench, optics dimmed to grey. Medical officer's log, shuttle Honesty: It's been four hours since Fusillade shot down the ship, leaving Deft and I as the only survivors. We had a nasty run-in with the Insecticon Buzzkill but got away thanks to a miracle. Everyone I talk to always tells me what a calm warrior she is but frankly I've never seen it. She's just as vicious and hateful as every other Decepticon. I finally reached the Empty settlement about half an hour ago, and they've graciously put me up in a shelter. I did have to trade the laser scalpels from three fingers on my left hand, though. I can't tell you how grateful I am to no longer see dead turbo-foxes and robo-possums everywhere. The settlement is among hollowed out structures that they call the Ruined Estates. Most of them aren't standing anymore but there's a few of them where you can still make out how pretty they must have been back in the day. Deft's condition is getting worse. All that jostling in my 'fight' with Buzzkill must have knocked his laser core chamber around. He hasn't woken up since, but I'm still detecting faint life signs. The Empties don't have any of the delicate equipment I need to investigate further. First Aid glances out through the teepee's opening. From here he can make out the rest of the settlement. It's drab with numerous ramshackle structures among the ancient ones that still stand. Broken down robots move about, taking care of their camp and chatting with each other. A few of them are hooked up to old batteries to drain what power is left in them. P.S. I lost my medkit in my narrow escape from Buzzkill, and my datapad was in it. I had to rewrite my previous log entry on my left laser scalpel targeting computer and will have to do so for future entries as well. Once Deft is safe to move I'll be heading east. Hopefully some day I can return and help out the people here, as they've been very generous to us. In such a dilapidated, deadbeat setting as this, it doesn't take much to make out the sound of an approaching engine over the nothingness. A flash of headlights before they disappear over an uneven ridge brings a few Empties to stand and take notice. A land vehicle? Could that possibly be Autobots coming with salvation to this almost dead settlement? For a few brief moments, hope flutters through the encampment. he vehicle surmounts the hills and comes into plain view, and that hope shatters like a dropped pane of glass on the cold unforgiving ground as the Decepticon Emblem upon the jeep's hood is visible in sharp contrast against it's tan colors. Empties that can move scatter for cover as the military vehicle pulls to a stop and transforms, Swindle shaking off a few waifs of dust like it was mud and grime. "Ugh. Can't believe I pulled the short wire to get stuck with this no-mech's land to investigate... Considering I was -cheating- besides!" Purple optics dart one way, then the other, and then the disgust is replaced with his usual oppritunistic demeanor as he clasps his hands together. "Oh well, may as well make the most of it." First Aid finishes the log entry and closes the panel that leads to his left hand's targeting computer, pressing down on it with his thumb to make sure it stays closed. It isn't the most elegant way to make a log entry, but he knows the entry would be picked up by standard Autobot autopsy protocols. Standing up, he looks down at Deft, "We've made it this far, buddy, we're going to make it the rest of the way." Deft does not respond. The sound of an engine gives First Aid a moment of confusion. He knows for sure none of the Empties can transform. His own transformation cog was damaged in the Honesty's crash and nobody around here had the complicated parts he'd need to get it fixed. Despite being deep within Decepticon territory, First Aid commits a cardinal sin by stepping out of the teepee, curious as to what just showed up. A thin green mech with a missing arm rushes up to him. "A trader, First Aid. Maybe you can *bzzt* get what you were looking for. Posi.. tronic... ss-s-s-s-sca--" "Positronic scanner," First Aid confirms. His hopes are raised, and he moves through the crowd of Empties towards the sound of the engine. Then, as he rounds one of the teepees, it dawns on him that most of the Empties are running /away/ instead of /towards/. He spies the side of the military vehicle and the emblem on its hood. First Aid quickly ducks behind the teepee, optics wide, praying that whatever Decepticon is there didn't spot him. Then he hears the voice and recognizes it instantly. Swindle? Here? Swindle doesn't notice, if only because he's already got his eyes on a mark. He's not far from the teepees, though his back is partially turned to them as he walks over to a mech trying to slouch in a corner. He's a big, brick-kibbled sort, likely not the most fuel efficient model in the least. But that is why Swindle is picking him out prehaps, leaning over just far enough to put a hand on the deadweight's shoulder. "Why hello there my good mech." Swindle spins his usual shyster charm, even if the guy looks like he's about to panic. "How would you like to make the deal of a lifetime? Maybe finally get yourself out of this pit of squalor?" With the other hand he reachs back to pull something out of subspace and hold it up... Energon Cube! ... about one-forth the size of a normal one, fitting snug in Swindle's palm. Yet for the Empties, it could theoretically priceless. And held just out of the ailing mech's reach. "All you've got to do is tell me who in this encampment has been dealing with the underground trafficing of the Crystal City rebels..." The poor guy looks besides himself with debating if he should rate on his fellow destitutes or not. Or maybe out of the corner of his optic he sees the Protectobot that Swindle doesn't. First Aid presses his back up against the teepee, keeping it between him and the Combaticon. He's reminded of when he tried to hide from Buzzkill, and the way the supplies he organized turned out to be the critical error that she used to find him. In this case, Aid can't think of any evidence he's left out. He should be able to stay hidden until Swindle finishes whatever he came here to do and then scrams. But... Deft is on the brink of death. First Aid talks a good game about the minibot getting better, but without the equipment to perform an actual diagnostic he can't be sure that he'll last long enough to reach Autobot territory. He knows Swindle is armed with a gravity grappling hook, which probably includes a positronic scanner in its targeting matrix. First Aid hears Swindle walking over and chatting with one of the Empties. The doctor creeps out to the other side of the teepee, peeking out and watching as Swindle puts his hand on the other mech's shoulder before pulling out an energon cube. You could shoot him, First Aid thinks. He isn't looking, he's distracted, and he's holding something that explodes. The Protectobot unconsciously touches the photon pistol attached to his right thigh. The deadweight would be injured as well, but Aid could solve this encounter right here and now. Maybe the scanner would survive the explosion. What are they talking about? Underground trafficking? Crystal City? First Aid's optics flash, taking his hand off his pistol. Even if this Empty doesn't give up what Swindle wants to know, someone else will. He knows how desperate they are. More to the point, no matter how desperate he and Deft are, he can't put an innocent's life in danger just for his benefit. Stepping out from behind the teepee, First Aid says, "Swindle..." he keeps his hands where the Combaticon will be able to see them. This could be a huge mistake. Finally the blocky mech jerks away from the Combatican... which is more like just flop over on his side. "nooooo *sparking cough* don't make me.. make me... betray..." "Betray -what-?" Just a hint of sharpness cuts into Swindle's otherwise gegarious tone. "What have any of them done for you? Look around you, my friend. Whatever they may be making in those trades, they're just sitting on instead of doing something about -this-." He holds out the mini-energon cube again. "Are you sure you don't want this deal? Going once... going twice..." And that is when a oh so familiar voice speaks up behind him. Swindle stands and turns, for a moment briefly looking surprised at the sight. But then a wry, somewhat vile smirk comes back to his metallic features. "Well well, First Aid. Whatever could you be doing here?" The hand with the cube goes behind his back, the other, the one with his scattergun afixed to it, comes up to cup his chin in a feigned thoughtful prose as he looks the Protectobot over. "You look like you've.. let yourself go a bit." Gives it a dismissive wave. "Or is this some sort of attempted at getting all Jane Goodall with the locals?" First Aid keeps his hands up so he appears non-threatening. If it came to it, he could either shoot Swindle with the remaining laser scalpels on his right hand despite already being dangerously low on energon, or reach down and grab his photon pistol. Even if he could do the second before Swindle takes a shot at him, blinding the mech with the scattergun in the middle of a town of innocents is not an option. Looking past the Combaticon, First Aid can see the large mech laying on his side in a ball, either out of terror or to avoid getting shot should a firefight break out. Alright, First Aid thinks, Swindle is surprised at your being here. Buzzkill must not have reported on his location, which makes sense given she failed to kill him. Decepticon Command might still think that everyone was killed on board the Honesty. Chances are Swindle is here just for the reason it seemed: to hassle the locals for information about the Crystal City resistance. That means he doesn't have any explicit orders to kill you... not that he really needs to be ordered to do it. Nervously, First Aid weighs his chances against Swindle and decides it'd be a real long shot... doubly so given First Aid's injuries. "It doesn't matter why I'm here," the doctor replies. "But I can tell you I'm not here acting against the Decepticons in this case. What matters is that I think we can make a deal that makes everyone happy and unhurt." Though his voice is strong, First Aid has butterflies in his fuel tank. "I need a positronic scanner." "You're not, are you?" Swindle mulls that over for a moment. Normally he'd be suspicious at such a claim. But this is First Aid we're talking about here. The medic probably doesn't have a lying circuit in his whole chassis. But if he wasn't here to work with the undreground smugglers, either there weren't any here, or First Aid really was on some sort of sappy attempt to help these deadbeats out. He could just pump a round of lead into the Protectobot's chest and scavange him for parts. Dispose a limb of one of the few Gestalts the Autobots have -and- dump a stock of high quality parts on the black market, double the -- eh? The thought process stops at the mention of positronic scanners. Sounds like he wouldn't have much in the way of good parts left in him if he's looking for that. Sadly Swindle was thinking about the market idea more than the crippling a gestalt idea, or he might of still shot him. "Isn't that standard issue for the sorts like you?" Swindle doesn't even bother trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice, folding his arms over his chest -- the one with the scattergun on the outside of the cross in clear view -- as he replies. "If there isn't really a network connect here you're not going to find one of those amongst these empty wrecks. Unless someone just happens to come along with a few connections..." The implications are there. It's your move, First Aid. You've got the Scammaster talking.. but can you pull through with it? Swindle can ask Buzzkill whether First Aid has a lying circuit in his chassis when he lied to stall for time before stabbing her in the foot with a handful of energizer syringes. As soon as your fuel tank is running low, your servos are creaking, your hydraulics are starting to give out, and you're staring down the barrel of a gun, desperation makes you do things you would normally never consider. Making deals with Swindle is one of these things. Ignoring the comment about the scanner being standard issue--it is--'First Aid' instead says, "One functional positronic scanner, no worse than a Class V, and I'll give..." here is where First Aid runs into trouble. What can he offer Swindle? His medkit has a lot of chemicals that could go for extreme amounts on the black market, but First Aid lost it in his fight with Buzzkill. Plus, having divamparc toxins out there on the market is just asking for trouble given the horrible weapons they could be used to make. "...and I'll give you the conduits from my decrystallizer assembly," First Aid says. This is partly a bluff: the Protectobot hasn't been able to transform since the crash and so the weapon would be useless to him in a fight. Even as he says it, Aid is trying to think of what Swindle could do with the conduits. Could he reverse engineer the decrystallizer? Maybe. Sell it for a tidy profit? Probably. The Protectobot hears a shuffling noise to his left, and he glances over to see one of the Empties watching, partly hiding behind a rusted barrel that's been retrofitted as a heating unit. First Aid curses himself for forgetting about the people here. "And also as part of this deal, you leave this settlement alone for the next 24 hours." That should give them time to evacuate. From his earlier conversations with the scrapheaps, they're used to a live on the move. The fact that the confrontation has -not- broken out into a firefight almost immeadiately is probably what's getting all the attention. For most of these people Autobot + Decepticon = MORAAAAAL KOMBAAAAAAAT right off the bat. Swindle notices a few lurkers off to the side, but it means little to him; these mechs are on their last legs, underarmed with at all, and probably don't have the energon to power anything they did have. There's a reason most of the smugglers haven't worked with them directly, they have so little to offer in return. Most would rather just pay them off to keep their vocalizers quiet than sell anything valuable to them. There is a 'What could you possibly offer?' there... But it never comes out as First Aid offers an intricate part to one of his trademark weapons. There's a glint in those purple optics, and whatever First Aid is thinking of could be the consequences it's likely Swindle has thought of twice as many market potentials in half the processing time. However, he maintains a facade of only passive interest for the moment. "Decomposing crystalline depolarization -is- a tricky technology to get accurate without a reference aide..." 24 hours? Hmmmm. On one hand, he might get in trouble for letting them leave. On the other hand, being forced to move out would disrupt any dealers as they needed to relocate wares, reformat transit scheduals, and could possible make mistakes in being rushed to do so that would make them easier to track down. Or there could be nothing, and he would of accomplished disclosing the lack of operation in this location with less expenditure of his own resources or the faction's and that's -always- a plus when you have skinflints like Ratbat occasionally scowling over your shoulder. There is a subtle but notible shift in the Combaticon's demeanor, going back to that more amiable, if somewhat wary, demeanor. Though now it's more like being suspicious of someone else showing up to report him than of First Aid. None the less, he strolls up to the medic. "Of course you understand, I need to see proof that you even still have said conduits and that they're in applicable shape before I finalize a deal." He holds up one hand to wave down any protest. "Not looking for mint in box or anything, don't worry. But they're of no value if they're not... at least salvagable." First Aid is thinking about all the things Swindle is. He knows what the Combaticon is going to be wrestling with: loyalty to his masters versus profit. "You can always just say this group didn't know anything," he suggests. He has no idea how gullible Cyclonus and the other Decepticon leaders may be, but according to Blades you could get away with quite a lot in that army sometimes. It's only been four hours since First Aid prayed to Primus for help when he encountered Buzzkill, and he's on the verge of doing so again. The Protectobot almost lets out a sigh of relief at Swindle's shift in demeanor but catches himself just in time. "Alright," he agrees, nodding slowly. Carefully and without any sudden movements, the Protectobot kneels and clicks open a panel just below his left knee. This is where his decrystallizer would attach in ambulance mode. For the second time in as many hours, First Aid is cannibalizing himself to get what he wants. Carefully, he unhooks a small cylindrical device with a glowing green light on it. The Protectobot repeats the process on his left knee, holding both conduits in his left hand. Though not essential to his motor relays, First Aid's feet go numb from having the components removed. Maybe it'll go away once my systems have time to adjust. He takes an awkward step back, wanting Swindle to look with his optics rather than his hands. They seem to be in decent enough condition, though it's hard to tell visually. "You have my word as an Autobot that they're both functional. I'm a well maintained Transformer." Usually, anyway. As an afterthought, First Aid then says, "Let me see the scanner. I need to know that you can hold up your side of the bargain as well." He feels like an idiot for even saying that. Given how battered he is and how pristine Swindle is, it's pretty obvious which of them is more likely to be missing parts right now. He moves the conduits closer to his body. If he gets shot and explodes, there's a good chance they'll be destroyed as well. There's a million more ways this could go wrong, First Aid knows, but if Swindle can be trusted long enough to complete this one transaction, he can diagnose Deft's laser core injuries and move out before the 24 hour time limit is up. The look to be in one piece and still glowing. That's a reasonable assertation that they're at least stable enough to be examined and if necessary reverse engineered from. To sell it or horde to himself, well, that's a question to ponder for himself later. Swindle reaches down to tap open the compartment of his hip, which pops open to reveal a holster of sorts, from which he pulls out his smaller sidearm. Having the grappler built into his gyro gun reduced the number of pieces of hardware he had to carry around, after all. I'm sure I don't have to explain why he would want more available storage space. He grips the scope-like device on to the top of it and with a click-pop it slides off and disconnects. Flicks it around his fingers and holds it up for First Aid to see. Though out of easy grabbing range, same as the medic kept the conduits at viewing distance only. "Mind you this is the military hardware version of a positronic scan device but I'm sure a mech of your technical skills can make it do what you need it to do." It's of little loss to Swindle outside of immeadiate use of his secondary weapon, he's got at least a dozen back-ups stashed away in his supply locker back home. First Aid is not sure this the right thing. He can imagine ways to use the conduits for evil, and he balances them against his and Deft's lives. His imagination for evil deeds pales in comparison to Swindle's, though, and he knows this. A lingering thought in the back of his mind is that he's doing this out of fear for his own safety rather than to save the life of his friend. He eyes the gyro gun's scope hungrily. "It'll do," First Aid replies, sounding like his mind is elsewhere. That scope is all he needs to let him get out of this hellhole. Slowly, First Aid takes a step towards Swindle, holding the conduits in one hand while keeping his other outstretched to take the scope. It's clear the doctor has never done anything like this before. Handling the actual physical trade is probably never this complicated or awkward as First Aid is making it, but he's never done it before and he's scared Swindle is going to just grab the conduits and high tail it out of there... or worse: shoot him in the face. A small group of Empties is watching from various hiding spots, but First Aid can't tell what they're actually doing. Are they happy he's making this trade that'll buy them some time, or do they think he's being a reckless idiot who's risking all their lives just to save a buddy? There is a lot of ways this could go wrong. You can be a lot of them have gone through both robot's minds, and even if he doesn't have the imagination for such vileness in his own First Aid knows well enough what Swindle is capable of when it comes to backstabs and doublecrosses... So it probably comes at a relief when Swindle, much more experienced in such swaps, hands over the scope and snatchs up the conduits in almost perfect sync, quickly producing a padded container to deposit them in and tuck away. "A pleasure doing business with you." That smile is -not- reassuring in the least. Then he turns and starts to walk down the middle of the encampment towards the opposite end he entered from as he puts two fingers to the side of his head and, for the sake of those listening, uses the external receiver of his comm. "This is Swindle checking in. There's nothing up here by Empties. I've," pauses to glance back at First Aid for a moment, "convinced them to move on to another sector." Then just starts walking again without looking back farther. "If there's any underground contacts working near here they'll be forced to change their transit scheduals and move their wares. It's a tangible economic double-back we can search for. I'm moving on to the next sector." Sure, it was bending the rules and twisting truths a bit. What did First Aid even need a replacement positronic scanner so badly for out here? What does he care? He just dealed an Autobot, of the opposing Special Team no less, out of one of his major components. First Aid didn't even have time to react when Swindle snatches the conduits and hands him the scope. If the Combaticon had really wanted he could have grabbed both of them, but no, he understands how these exchanges work and doesn't do anything to jeopardize it. Even after the trade is made, First Aid stands stunned, terrified that Swindle is going to call in an air strike, or tell Decepticon Command everything (what that would even entail, First Aid doesn't know), or somehow do *something* that renders all his efforts moot. It isn't until Swindle finishes his transmission that the doctor even realizes that it worked. He turns the scope over in his hands, examining it and quickly verifying that he can use its components to treat Deft. He glances over to his left in time to see several Empties packing up their stuff for the move out. Aid is the only one that's actually shocked by these developments. For everyone else it's just business as usual. Hesitating, the Autobot looks back to his foe and mumbles, "Ah, t-thanks, Swindle," in the most non-confident tone imaginable. He has no idea if he won or even broke even. Not turning, First Aid backs away as if this could still somehow turn into a disaster. Once he reachs the outer edge of the camp Swindle transforms and motors off. For all the things he could still do to make things miserable for First Aid and the scraps, well, the only thing on his mind -now- is getting back to one of his caches and start analysing. In the end First Aid should probably be glad it wasn't a -more- serious Decepticon that came across him.